


Vanilla

by orphan_account



Category: GOT7
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jinyoung's vanilla scent keeps Mark coming back for more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This 13k MarkJin fic of mine might probably bore you, and the lack of smut will maybe, definitely, stress you, but I still hope you enjoy reading the longest MarkJin fic I ever wrote!!! OTL I’d been itching to write fem!Jinyoung for ages now and god bless me as I disappoint you all because this is such a piece of shit.
> 
> Also, shoutout to Jia aka my favorite MarkJin stan!

 

Mark’s entire school is talking about the new girl, Park Jinyoung. Not that Mark can blame them, because every piece of Jinyoung is interesting.

 

For starters, Jinyoung is beautiful. More so, even. She’s stunning in her simplicity, and everyone finds her wit sexy. It’s summer when Jinyoung moved in their dorm, but she’s dressed in a long, pastel pink sweatshirt and fitted jeans like it’s autumn. Her hair falls gracefully past her shoulders and down to her waist, no frizzy strand destroying the prim and proper look. Her eyes, which usually are covered in black-framed glasses, don’t look at anyone; Mark knows they’re chocolate brown, but the world doesn’t see its beauty often because she’s mostly looking down at the worn pages of her paperbacks, smiling that sweet, barely-dimpled smile at the cringe-worthy romances of her fictional heroes.

 

There’s also the fact that Jinyoung transferred on her senior year of high school. _Who does that?_ was everyone’s initial reaction, but none of them asked her. Talking to Jinyoung seems like a mission impossible for most, to which Mark only snorts at because 1. Jinyoung is actually chatty when the topic interests her; and 2. Jinyoung isn’t as secretive as everyone thinks because in reality, she’s just waiting for the right questions to be asked. Mark may have a hunch on why Jinyoung transferred out of her prestigious former school, but it’s not his story to tell so he keeps mum.

 

It also piqued everyone’s interest how Jinyoung started to be the talk of the customers of the café a few blocks away from their school. Not that working in a coffee shop is a big deal, but in a matter of days, Jinyoung has become a few of the regular customers’ favorite—which are mostly university students around town and half of the entire student body’s population. Mark, who has always been watching the female ever since even when he’s not allowed to, paid her a visit at the café with Jackson who simultaneously helped him in and almost blew up his cover with his loud mouth.

 

“She’s a great coffee artist,” Jackson says as he sits across the table from Mark, winking at the staff who attended to him at the counter. “Or so they said. Let’s wait for our drinks.”

 

As it turns out five minutes later, it wasn’t all a rumor. A staff serves them their coffees carefully, and Mark is too amused at the puppy drawn on the foam of his drink that he pointedly ignores the staff’s lingering hands on Jackson’s arm, or the tissue that his best friend passes onto her with a scribble of his digits.

 

“So are you going to drink that or just stare at it forever?” Jackson asks minutes later, his upper lip sporting a milk moustache.

 

“She’s amazing,” Mark comments, the compliment slipping from his lips annoyingly easily. This alerts Jackson on his senses, a wide smirk on his face.

 

“Mark Tuan is amazed, wow,” he grins, eyes teasing. “Now, I’m curious.”

 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t talked to her yet?” Mark queries, his left eyebrow meeting his hairline. “That’s weak of you, man.”

 

“Dude, this girl has some… _walls._ It’s like she’s so shielded or something. I don’t usually go here without you because they don’t serve organic teas, so that’s almost eight hours I can’t talk to her. And then, she’s in the library when she’s not here, and you know our librarian _hates_ my charms because I’m too loud,” Jackson explains, his hands fumbling his phone. “Her Facebook is private too, as well as her Twitter and Instagram. So, yes, as much as she’s the most gorgeous female species on the walks of earth, I’m just a plain human being who can’t break down her walls.” Jackson laughs boisterously after his speech, which gained them the looks of every single person inside the café.

 

Just when Mark’s about to slip out of his seat to leave Jackson and his loud, humiliating antics inside the café, he sees Jinyoung step out from the back, her hair tied in a messy bun and her bangs falling adorably on her forehead. Jackson’s hyena sound seems to be so loud that it reaches Jinyoung, and the girl seems to go out to check what happens. Her eyes land on their table and onto Jackson, and Mark knows it’s a small smile he sees. And then her eyes meet Mark’s own, and suddenly, it’s his lips that are curving up slightly, his head tilting a little to acknowledge her. Jinyoung looks down to avoid his gaze, and from his seat, he sees her patting her own cheeks shyly, the gesture too cute for Mark’s heart to handle.

 

* * *

 

Mark has never been so stressed on the first day of a new school year until now.

 

One, he is in all three of Jackson’s common classes with Jinyoung. And if three classes weren’t enough, Mark finds out by the time the final bell rings that he’s actually in all of Jinyoung’s classes. Not to mention that their homeroom teacher randomly gave them locker keys, where Mark got locker #4 and Jinyoung got the third locker down the column, #24, making it impossibly hard for Mark to keep his things at the same time Jinyoung does, or else there’d be the physical contact Mark wishes to never happen.

 

Two, the younger female acts so welcoming, so warm around Mark with her timid smiles and little nods inside their classrooms and in the hallways that it makes him feel guilty to act so cold around her. It’s not like Mark intentionally ignores Jinyoung with how his eyes are always looking at anyone and anything but Jinyoung, but he sort of wants to keep the frigid façade and the unfriendly demeanor around the rather lovely female.

 

And three, Jinyoung catches Mark watching out for her when two infamously mean girls pranked her on her first day of school at the cafeteria. Most of the people who know them call Joy and Yeri the satanic twins with all their pranks and savageness ever since their freshman days, and the two are Juhyeon’s sister from Jackson’s homeroom, who is also Hani’s best friend—the pretty, funny girl who had had a crush on Jackson since god knows when. It’s just a small issue of envy from Hani’s side when she figured out Jackson is interested in Jinyoung, but because Hani is too nice to act out on her jealousy, Joy and Yeri took the matter in their hands. Mark knew about their scampish plan because no gossip goes past Bambam and Yugyeom, and although he knows Jinyoung is no damsel-in-distress, he still couldn’t help but watch her back during lunch.

 

“They’re here,” Bambam muttered under his breath at lunch, he and Yugyeom rolling their eyes heavenward. From his seat on their table, Mark subtly looked around the cafeteria, and even he couldn’t help snickering at how four of the satanic twins’ friends were standing suspiciously near the window from where Jinyoung was sitting. If Jinyoung were just playing dumb or were seriously oblivious of the devilry about to go on, Mark wouldn’t know.

 

“Oh fuck it, I’m stop—“ The rest of Yugyeom’s arguments were covered shut by Mark’s hands, and he forcefully made the younger boys watch silently as the show started.

 

Initially, Joy and Yeri planned to trip Jinyoung who never pulls her eyes away from her books and start a food fight with only the clueless girl as the victim, but it’s not just them who have tricksy friends—Mark and his friends from the Swimming Club would never be called notorious by their coach for nothing.

 

It was a smooth plan to save Jinyoung without her noticing him – it took half of Mark’s weekly allowance to have the guys do it without him – until Jackson acted out as the asshole best friend that he is. Though his teammates were able to stop the food fight, a friend of Joy was still able to splash freshly blended strawberry shake on Jinyoung amidst the chaos, and Jackson actually did right by shoving the bastard away from her and covering Jinyoung.

 

Except Jackson covered Jinyoung’s wet uniform with Mark’s club jacket, and as she stepped inside their surprisingly common History class after lunch clad in a new set of uniform, she’s smiling abashedly at him, her cheeks adorably flushed with a light shade of pink and Mark was unable to stop himself from smiling back at her.

 

* * *

 

The first week back in school had been one hell of a ride, and Mark is thankful that Yugyeom is taking Jackson and Bambam away from their dorm and in his hometown for the weekend because he’d have the silence he was never able to have ever since he and Jackson became friends on his second year in high school.

 

Mark was new in school then, and the last thing he wanted was to get involved with too many people. Just a few months back, Mark’s ties with his closest friend were tested, and the past event had yet to sink in so he was in no mood to reconnect with the world. But the world is full of surprises, and Mark’s dorm room happened to be next to the room of the world’s most persistent person: Jackson Wang.

 

Jackson was everything Mark disliked in a person, but in his own unique ways, Jackson was able to worm his way into Mark’s life. Jackson is exactly the antithesis of Mark, but he as well brought out the best in him, and as much as he likes Jackson’s distractingly loud and boisterous laugh, silence sometimes is an appealing concept, as well.

 

Enjoying the first hour of solitary in years of being in Jackson’s company, Mark roams around the vicinity of their dorm, an American pop song playing in his iPod. He’s bobbing his head as he plays along with the rhythm, the early autumn breeze tossing his blond hair in different directions. Their dorm is almost empty, most of the residents either out partying or on their way home. Mark doesn’t want to deal with the thoughts of being home, the idea too displeasing to think at a night as beautiful as now. He sighs, suddenly feeling so emotionally drained. Looking straight ahead, Mark sees the benches lining the sides of the dorm building across theirs, and he maneuvers himself on one of them until he’s lying down on his back, his arms serving as pillows underneath his head. Shutting his eyes tightly, Mark blanks his minds and drowns himself on the cold, night air.

 

And then the universe decides to play with him again.

 

Halfway into his nap, Mark screams in surprise as he sits up, murmuring swearwords under his breath as he feels the sting of something hard aching on his forehead. It’s dark, none of the windows in the building is lit, and Mark wants to scream at the empty space in front of him.

 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” It’s not often that Mark hears the dulcet tone of Jinyoung’s voice, but she sounds so familiar that Mark’s internal panic increases. He’s about to run and leave when he sees a phone light up a few feet away from where he’s situated. Mark pictures Jinyoung slumped on the window, texting with someone as she basked in the evening breeze before something startled her, causing the phone to fall on his face. A name registers on the screen, a familiar number calling, with Jinyoung’s soft humming as the ringtone. Mark unconsciously finds himself smiling as he picks up the phone, and before the call ends he sees Jinyoung’s screensaver – a photo of her holding close and kissing a white Maltese puppy – and Mark’s smile suddenly turns somber.

 

A familiar Maltese puppy that reminds Mark of how connected he was once with Jinyoung.

 

Sighing exasperatedly, Mark carefully puts down Jinyoung’s phone and walks away, ignoring the latter’s calls of apology behind back and walking away as fast as he could—as if running away from Jinyoung right that moment will be the same as running away from the past he spent three years forgetting.

 

* * *

 

Being a multimillionaire’s only child, Mark grew up attending formal parties and meeting people obligatorily. Though Mark is sure he had met more than a hundred kids of his age in years of being a constant presence beside his parents, there are only three people who matter, and whom Mark knows he’ll never forget. As much as he wants to.

 

First, is Im Jaebum, or Mark’s close friend since the younger male got out of his mom’s womb. Jaebum’s father is his father’s closest pal—the two having been friends since their college days in the US. Their friendship sort of started as mandatory, having been forced with each other since their fathers are running their empire together; but as soon as both of them grew up and started having a pool of classmates from their different schools to choose from and befriend, they realized they were together by choice, not by force. Mark appreciates how he and Jaebum survive hours of silence, their relationship not much relying on words, them more often than not communicating in silence.

 

Then there’s Choi Youngjae, Jaebum’s classmate from his summer piano classes. Mark isn’t interested in any instruments, but Jaebum is, and so Mark supported him and went to his classes, as well. There he met Youngjae, a fluffy, baby pumpkin who seems to be radiating sunshine whenever he smiles. Being an only child, Mark found a younger brother in Youngjae, and through summers after summers of hanging out, Mark grew a fond liking to the walking, laughing ray of sunlight.

 

And last but definitely not the least, the most important of them all: Park Jinyoung.

 

Jinyoung is Jaebum’s female best friend, though Mark only got to know her after they moved three blocks away from Jaebum’s house during middle school. Jinyoung is literally the girl next door, her window just a few feet away from Jaebum’s. Mark was 14 when they moved in the neighborhood and he first met Jinyoung, a decade late from when the two started building the strong foundation of their friendship.

 

_“Why didn’t you tell me you have the most beautiful neighbor in the world?” 14-year-old Mark asks 13-year-old Jaebum, the two of them playing chess on the conference table inside the company._

_“Because you don’t seem like the type who likes girls,” Jaebum says, pushing his pawn forward and blocking the bishop from moving further. “I don’t mean to say you’re gay, it’s just that you seem to prefer dogs than girls.”_

_“Agreed,” Mark replies, bringing him and Jaebum in a pit of laughter._

Mark had always thought Jaebum knows him as much as he knows Jaebum, but he was wrong. That day, when Mark excruciatingly lost from Jaebum in their game of chess, Mark realized that Jaebum read him wrongly.

 

Because Mark liked Jinyoung more than he did anyone or anything else.

 

However, it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. A decade of being together before he joined the picture, Mark was sure Jinyoung is more than Jaebum’s female best friend, what’s with all of Jaebum’s territorial stares whenever Mark invades Jinyoung’s personal space, the younger male’s hands always wrapped around the female.

 

And, if Jaebum’s possessiveness wasn’t problem enough, there’s also Im Nayeon, Jaebum’s younger sister who claims to have fallen in love with Mark at first sight.

 

Nayeon’s beauty is striking—her bright, dazzling toothed-smile, her cheeky laugh, and the way she tosses her arms whenever she finds something adorable. Even with her relation with Jaebum, Mark didn’t develop a close friendship with her as the younger female spent most of her years confined in a prep, all-girls school, further supporting Mark’s theory that she only claimed to have experienced love at first sight because technically, Mark is the first male besides her father and brother whom she laid her eyes on.

 

In retrospect, Mark realizes his strings are in even more complex connections with his friends’ that his one wrong move complicated them all, ensuing a mind-boggling fiasco that forced Mark and Jaebum to cut some ties.

 

* * *

 

“Man, I’m so sorry I can’t be there for your birthday,” Jackson drawls on the screen, his face warping distractingly on Skype while Mark is reading an old Korean literature for his class. Mark’s best friend is exaggeratedly sobbing, their two younger friends ignoring his antics as they splurge on his food. “I had to fly to Hong Kong—“

 

“Because your grandparents had an emergency and you had to be there for them,” Mark finishes, taking a deep breath as he closes his book like Jackson asked of him a hundred times already since he called. “Stop overreacting, because at this rate I’d probably die of lethal disgust and won’t be able to celebrate my birthday, dude.”

 

“Oh, geez, sorry for loving you too much,” Jackson snorts, childishly pouting at the screen. Yugyeom and Bambam look up on Mark’s phone and fake vomit. “The kids will join you, anyway.”

 

“They don’t have to,” Mark interrupts, shrugging as the three give him a questioning look. “I’m thinking of driving to Seoul and spend the day with my parents.”

 

“Wow, hyung, that’s really nice,” Bambam nods, and Mark can see the genuine happiness in the younger’s eyes. Yugyeom nods as well, but Jackson looks doubtful.

 

Fortunately for Mark, Jackson was a little less than a thousand miles away to ask further, and the kids miraculously bought his alibi and spent the weekend at Yugyeom’s place. The day before was uneventful, but Mark’s birthday brings him the surprise of his life, making up for the lack thereof the past years.

 

The surprise comes in the most aesthetic form, sweeping Mark off his feet and taking his soul by storm.

 

It’s 9AM when Mark opens the door to a breathtaking sight, Jinyoung in her fitted, white ripped jeans, and a baby blue knitted sweater, her eyes looking straight at him with shy curiosity.

 

“Did I wake you?” Jinyoung asks, her voice barely above a whisper and Mark gasps—he just woke up and still isn’t sane enough to deal with the female’s mellifluous voice. “I’m sorry—“

 

“It’s okay,” he says, voice surprisingly steady despite the increasing pace of his heartbeat. “Come in.” Why Mark opened his door wider to accommodate Jinyoung in, he doesn’t know; Mark just knows vanilla smells so good on Jinyoung, and he wants to keep the scent near him.

 

The first thing Jinyoung does when she comes in is give Mark a faint hug and greet him a soft _happy birthday_ , stupidly stopping him from shutting the door close. The sweet smell is even more addicting with their close proximity, and Mark wants to breathe Jinyoung in until her scent is all his senses know, but he can’t. So Mark clears his throat.

 

“I’ll just take a shower. Give me five minutes,” he says in a hurry, and a breath later he’s standing in a bathroom cubicle, panting and out of breath.

 

Mark’s five minutes turns thirty, most of which are spent reflecting on his life choices and decisions. Hadn’t he told the kids he’d probably drive to his parents, Yugyeom and Bambam would be there with him, and Jinyoung would be just another illusion of his brain. Staring at his flushed reflection, Mark pulls off his hair, annoyed that he can’t blame anyone but himself for the situation he put himself in.

 

It surprises Mark when he opens his door and his room is cleaned, Jinyoung finding solace in his bed, her back propped up by Mark’s numerous pillows as she reads, books seemingly feeling like magnets that attract Jinyoung quickly. Mark doesn’t want to think of how satisfying it feels to see Jinyoung comfortable in his space, nor does he want to picture himself lying on her lap as she reads him a book, her slender fingers playing at his blond hair.

 

Mark wants to lighten up their rather tensed atmosphere by noting how Jinyoung is so keen in cleaning up after others’ mess when she can’t do so with her own when the younger female speaks.

 

“Your friends do not know we know each other, correct?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement, but Mark still nods in confirmation anyways. “I see,” she says simply, smiling the close-lipped smile Mark is irked to see. He prefers her open-mouthed laughs and toothed smiles, because he knows all of those are genuine. “Are you expecting them any moment from now?” she asks, closing the book and placing it on the bedside table. “Shall I go now?”

 

With Jinyoung talking to him so formally like this, Mark feels his armor start to crumble, until he’s giving in and crawling beside Jinyoung on the bed, his hands reaching out for Jinyoung’s softer ones. “Please, stay.”

 

And stay Jinyoung does.

 

Neither of them speaks about anyone and anything related to the life they both left in Seoul, but even with the silence enveloping them, Mark is content. He hasn’t been with Jinyoung for almost three years, and as much as he hates to admit it, he’s most comfortable in Jinyoung’s company. There still seems to be a wall wedged in between them, but Mark can feel Jinyoung putting some efforts in trying to break it off—or at least lower it down to a manageable height.

 

(“I’m hungry,” Jinyoung complained once while they’re in a middle of a Japanese horror film, her arms hugging her knees and only one of her eyes open. Mark was about to offer to go out and buy when Jinyoung added, “…but I don’t want you to go away either. The monster’s about to come out and I can’t deal with her alone.” They ended up sharing a box of Mark’s cereal then, with him doing most of the feeding because Jinyoung’s hands were too busy covering her eyes to do so. Every film, Jinyoung would complain about her grumbling stomach, until Mark realized that all the boxes of cereal he was so intent on keeping off the kids’ hands were empty, but Jinyoung was sated and full and happy, and Mark couldn’t complain any further.)

 

* * *

 

Mark always makes sure he remembers his friends’ birthdays and exerts effort during those days, but he treats his own as any ordinary day. He isn’t one who celebrates much, his birthday usually falling on a school day and was easily bypassed. Jinyoung, however, never forgets his birthdays. She tells him this when she woke up at the middle of the night, Mark’s eyes squinting a little to read his digital clock. 1:42 AM.

 

“Maybe it’s because we are both September babies, but I never forget about your birthday,” Jinyoung slurs sleepily, her head hanging on the edge of Mark’s bed as she looks at him upside down from where he’s lying down on the carpeted floor.

 

“Yeah? I never received any gift, though,” Mark kids, and he relishes the sight of Jinyoung’s slight pout, her lips pink and plump.

 

“Ass,” Jinyoung calls, and Mark chuckles fondly because as much as he likes Jinyoung’s angelic side, her snarky retorts are much more entertaining. Mark sits up as Jinyoung fumbles under the bed for something, which Mark finds out rather painfully is a box wrapped carefully in a soft blue wrapping paper with painted puppies as she throws it to his lap, the box thumping hardly on his limbs.

 

“Wow, thanks,” Mark sneers, but Jinyoung’s gutsy front vanishes as quickly as it comes, and suddenly Mark is curious as to what the box holds. He starts pulling on the ribbon, but is surprised when Jinyoung jumps on him, her hands taking the box away.

 

“Open it when I’m not here!” she screams, and if Mark would say he doesn’t find her stunning under his lamplight and with a light pink hue on her cheeks, then he’d be lying.

 

“I want to see it now,” Mark insists with rare puppy eyes, and Jinyoung surrenders the gift back with a sigh.

 

“Don’t expect too much,” she murmurs, hiding her face at the juncture of Mark’s neck and shoulder.

 

After Mark lifts off the lid, three more wrapped gifts come to view. He first opens the cylinder tube with a navy blue ribbon. On the lid of the tube is the number 17 in Jinyoung’s handwriting. “Seventeen?”

 

“That’s a gift for your seventeenth birthday, jerk,” she replies, and Mark almost laughs out loud at the hilarity of the gift, but the effort touched his heart so he holds back his laughter.

 

Inside is a black customized shirt. Mark knows, because the drawn puppies are very much Jinyoung’s style. There’s a guy sitting at the middle of the shirt which Mark guesses is him, surrounded by different breeds of dogs. In a thought bubble are the words _I hate dogs._

“It’s so adorable,” Mark coos, patting Jinyoung’s cheeks. “I’ll give it a try.” Jinyoung tries to stop him from lifting his shirt off, but she only squeaks in defeat as he successfully changed from his long sleeved shirt to the tee shirt. “I’m dressed now, princess. You can take a peek.”

 

“Bastard,” she snarls, but opens her eyes to look. Mark tilts his head to the side, and Jinyoung smiles shyly. “Did you like it?”

 

“I did,” Mark says, kissing Jinyoung’s temple as he pulls her closer. “Now, let’s see what’s inside this—“

 

Jinyoung stops Mark from opening the rectangular, bluish gray box. “That gift says 19. You have to open the 18th gift first,” she argues, taking the box away and handing him a slightly bigger rectangular gift wrapped in a soft, cerulean fabric which Mark guesses is a book.

 

“Is this a book,” Mark utters under his breath, and Jinyoung hits his arm.

 

“Stop spoiling yourself, idiot. Just open it.”

 

Mark should have known with the way Jinyoung’s eyes sparkle and the way she bites her lower lip in excitement that it’s a mischievous gift. As the fabric wrapper falls on Mark’s feet, he feels the urge to hit Jinyoung’s head with the hardbound copy of Grey, feels the urge to strangle the girl until she stops victimizing Mark with her mischief.

 

“When will you leave me alone?”

 

“Wait until you open your 19th gift,” she grins, and as Mark complies, Jinyoung starts wrapping herself with Mark’s blanket, rolling off and away from Mark’s ticklish hands.

 

Inside the third box is a gray necktie with a handwritten note atop it: _Why yes, sir, you can do anything you want with this tie._

 

* * *

 

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Jackson rambles, his eyes wide open and his brows furrowed. All four of them are walking out of their dorm and towards the school building. “We left you alone on your birthday, and in a matter of hours you found yourself a girlfriend?”

 

“Shut up, I never said anything about Jinyoung being my girlfriend,” Mark argues, swatting Bambam’s hands away from his sandwich. Yugyeom is watching them all with amused eyes, his mouth too busy sipping from his chocolate shake to weigh in on their argument. “I just said we were once friends, and now we’re friends again.”

 

“Hyung, you are so complicated,” Bambam says, puffing air in his cheeks before breathing out. “It’s like, you unfriended her or something.”

 

“I tried to run away, but she’s so insistent—“

 

“More like you’re so in love to escape,” Yugyeom teases as he slurps gulp after gulp of his drink. “Don’t think I don’t see you looking at her with heart eyes,” the youngest mumbles, before he finishes, “and by the way she’s getting out of their building. Jinyoungie-noona!”

 

Yugyeom runs off to greet her with Bambam in tow, and Jackson stops walking completely to ask Mark in a faux offended tone, “When did they become friends to the girl who rejected me? That’s like breaking the rule of friendship, man.” Mark would answer if he could, but he and Jackson have the same question so he just shrugs, his feet thinking on their own and following the kids.

 

The two are looking up amusedly at Jinyoung, trying her best to tie her hair with Bambam holding onto her arms. Mark can see how surprised she looks, her eyes open adorably wide and her mouth agape, trying to find words to fill in Bambam and Yugyeom’s endless curiosity. In a second, Jinyoung finds Mark’s eyes, and he tilts his head slightly, silently asking Jinyoung to bear with the overly enthusiastic younger boys. She nods, before she half-frowns, half-chuckles at Jackson. Mark glances to his side, and he sees Jackson’s arms crossed across his chest, lips jutted out in a sulking manner.

 

While Jinyoung deals with the younger boys singlehandedly and succeeds, Mark is finding it hard not to laugh as he comforts Jackson.

 

“I can’t believe those traitors,” he grunts, hands threatening a punch behind Yugyeom. “They should side with me!”

 

“Don’t take her rejections too deeply, dude. Maybe you’re too straightforward, anyway. She probably just got scared of the flirting.”

 

“Yeah, and your flirting didn’t scare her?” Jackson asks, and Mark embarrassingly flushes.

 

“Shut up. I did not flirt with her. Jinyoung’s a friend.” When Mark looks at Jackson, he’s biting off a smirk, undoubtedly not believing a crap he said. Not that Mark can blame him, though, because he’s finding it hard to convince himself as well that Jinyoung is nothing more than just a friend.

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t surprise Mark a bit that during lunch that same day, Jackson is already clinging onto Jinyoung in their table. He, Yugyeom, and Bambam are trying to impress Jinyoung in their own little ways, charming her with impressive gestures, and pulling tiny smiles and soft chuckles from her lips. Mark can tell she’s still a little awkward with the sudden attention given to her, which she exactly tells him as they walk out of their last class for the day. They’re standing awkwardly with Mark leaning against the lockers while watching Jinyoung put inside her textbooks when the younger female brings it up.

 

“So you told your friends about me,” she starts, attention concentrated on piling up her books neatly. “Finally.”

 

“Don’t be so smartass,” Mark retorts when Jinyoung stands up, done with arranging her stuff. The two of them start walking towards the general direction of the dorms, Mark’s hand reflexively protecting Jinyoung when the hallways get too cramped with people. “And technically, I didn’t tell them. More like, Yugyeom found out.”

 

“So you don’t plan on telling them about your dear little friend Jinyoungie, I see.”

 

“I said, stop being so smartass.” Mark actually strangles Jinyoung this time, locking his arms around her neck while messing playfully with her already messy bun. Jinyoung doesn’t try to stop him, but she puts up a hand on his forearm to loosen his hold a little. Mark feels a shiver run down his spine at the contact, but he doesn’t let go. “Yugyeom saw your gifts on my table. That one knows nothing about knocking, so before I could even start explaining about the gifts, Bambam’s already calling Jackson’s phone and telling him I got myself a girlfriend.” Mark feels warmth decorate his cheeks with a blush, which thankfully Jinyoung shares with him because it’d humiliate him even more to be flushing at the word by himself.

 

“Those three,” Jinyoung trails, thumbs caressing Mark’s skin, “they’re so funny. And nice. But uhm… their attention gets a little too overwhelming.” She finishes with a hand to her nape, her fingers pulling the loose hair by the back of her head.

 

“I could see. You want me to ask them to stop?”

 

Jinyoung hesitates for a moment, and Mark finds himself following the way she chews on her lower lip. “Not… exactly. It’s just that… being around them makes me miss Youngjae.”

 

Mark understands. As hard as he tries to push the thoughts of how fluffy and adorable Youngjae is at the back of his mind, Yugyeom and Bambam remind him of his friend most of the time. How the kids are as bright and radiant as Youngjae even at the earliest of hours. How the kids are like salted worms when getting a little over excited. How the kids always complain about how Mark suffocates them with hugs and gross kisses but clings onto him nevertheless.

 

“He asks about you always, you know.”

 

“Yeah?” he hesitates, hands resting at the back of Jinyoung’s back as they walk further away from the school buildings. Jinyoung instinctively leans closer, and there’s the sweet vanilla smell again that’s tempting Mark to no ends. “We can meet him at the café, if you want.”

 

And they do. A few days later while Mark is enjoying the sunlight seeping through the glass walls of the café where Jinyoung is working, a familiar weight jumps on him, Youngjae’s baby cologne invading his senses.

 

“Hyung! You don’t know how much I missed you!” Youngjae starts, his butt half on the seat next to Mark’s, and half on Mark’s lap. “You just disappeared on us and never talked to us again! You stopped attending my piano lessons and recitals and I thought you’ve forgotten about me already!!!”

 

It’s a huff of relief to have Youngjae’s weight back on him again, the younger’s feet kicking Mark’s own in overexcitement. Mark watches him animatedly narrate the past three years, with his little crushes and classmates who find his singing skills heavenly. Youngjae is halfway telling Mark about his plans for his 16th birthday when Jinyoung arrives with a tray of drinks and cheesecake.

 

“Someone’s too excited,” she notes, taking Youngjae’s attention away from Mark. He watches Youngjae’s attention turn to Jinyoung fully, their hands intertwined on top of the table. Jinyoung listens intently to his stories while simultaneously feeding Mark with forkfuls of cheesecake, the gesture too natural for Youngjae to pay attention to.

 

* * *

 

“So when will you tell me you were out on a date with Jinyoung yesterday?” Jackson pries as he jumps on Mark on his bed, his body too heavy for Mark to push off. The kids are unnaturally without him, which gives Jackson more time to interrogate him.

 

At any other time, Mark doesn’t mind sharing Jackson everything and anything he asks of him, but Jinyoung is on her way to his room with a bag of Trigonometry text books and practice sheets. Mark doesn’t think he’s anywhere near ready for Jackson to question him how he’s overly comfortable with Jinyoung in his private space.

 

Fate has never been Mark’s friend, because even before Jackson can annoyingly reiterate his question to him, there’s a knock on the door before it opens and closes. Jackson stops speaking suspiciously atop him, and Jinyoung opens and closes her mouth as she tries to fetch some words out of her mouth.

 

“Err – uhm, is this a bad time?” she asks, brows frowning and Mark unbelievably chuckles at how adorable the curious lines on her forehead look.

 

Adrenaline gives Mark enough strength to push Jackson off his body and on the floor, running to Jinyoung as he takes the heavy bag from her shoulder. Her cropped sweater lifts a little as her arms move, her midriff showing and Mark is sure Jackson’s boisterous laugh is because he notices how Mark suddenly freezes at the sight of Jinyoung’s exposed milky flesh.

 

“We’re actually waiting for you, Jinyoungie!” Jackson announces, hugging her with a nonchalance Mark wishes he can have too. While Jackson is working his charms with Jinyoung, Mark pushes aside his dirty laundry to make room for their books on the floor around the center table.

 

After he’s done arranging their study area, Mark stands up and pulls Jinyoung away from Jackson with possessive arms, Jinyoung’s own snaking around his waist as they walk across the room to get started.

 

“Why don’t you join us, Jackson-ah,” Jinyoung offers, her lovely fingers playing with her pen. Mark stops himself from staring at her fingers before his thoughts fly to the other things Mark would love to see Jinyoung’s fingers do. Now’s not exactly a good time to welcome filthy thoughts, not when they need to seriously study for their assignment and the upcoming periodical exam.

 

“Nah, I’m good. Stock knowledge is always the best,” he declines, and Mark is actually surprised at the silence that followed.

 

Which didn’t even last long as halfway into their second practice sheet, Jackson got bored surfing the internet so he starts a small talk with Jinyoung much to Mark’s chagrin.

 

“Hey, Jinyoungie. Where were you yesterday?” he asks, feigning innocence. Jinyoung doesn’t see through the pretense as she keeps her head low, only lifting it up to look at the shorter guy as she mutters _at the café._ Jackson nods, biting back the evil grin he’s about to sport as he pries further, “I heard you had a visitor?”

 

Jackson probably heard the news from Youngji, the cashier at the café who has been flirting with him since the day Jackson winked at her, or maybe from Sana, the Japanese barista who has the cutest aegyo. Either way, Mark wants to lecture them about giving away free information in exchange of a date.

 

“Yup. Youngjae paid Mark-oppa and I a visit. He’s a friend from Seoul.” Jinyoung smiles timidly, but Mark can’t think straight because _fuck_ , he doesn’t realize how much he likes the sound of _oppa_ coming out of Jinyoung’s lips until she said it again a few seconds ago.

 

“So it’s true that you and Mark were together last night.”

 

At this, Jinyoung looks up from under her bangs at Jackson, a warm blush visibly creeping up from her neck to her cheeks to the tips of her ears. Mark wants to point out how the pink flush looks so entrancing on her face, but he doesn’t want to risk Jackson seeing the deepening red on his cheeks, either.

 

“We were,” she whispers, her voice fading away as the words finish, “but he just… took me back to the dorm… and we… uh…”

 

Jinyoung looks at Mark for help, and he sighs exasperatedly. “We’re trying to finish our assignment, Jackson. So please? Can the questions stop coming?” His best friend forces out a huffed _fine_ , his teeth too busy biting down on his tongue so he wouldn’t laugh out loud.

 

In the end, Jackson lets them finish the assignment due the next day, but if Mark actually believed that he already heard the end of it, he was wronged. At lunch the next day, Yugyeom and Bambam are sharing the cheekiest of glances. Thankfully, Jinyoung is busy sorting manuals and books at the library to join them for the day, lest Mark would probably prefer if the world were to open up and an endless chasm swallow him whole.

 

“So, you and Jinyoungie-noona, huh?”

 

“No.”

 

“When are you going to tell us—“

 

“There’s nothing to tell.”

 

“—that you are finally going back to Seoul to accommodate Jinyoung to a piano concert?”

 

The fork of food stops midway to Mark’s mouth when his three friends laugh scandalously, half of the entire cafeteria looking at their table. He stares at Jackson with doe eyes, his mouth dropping at the floor.

 

“I fucking hid the invitation under the bed,” he mutters in defeat, and his younger friends double down in laughter.

 

“Jinyoung-noona told us,” Bambam quips when Jackson wouldn’t, Mark’s best friend too busy creeping the shit out of him. “She invited us – which, by the way how dare you not do – but we haven’t met Youngjae yet so we declined.”

 

“She insisted to bring us, but we still got some bashfulness so yeah, we said no,” Yugyeom adds, shrugging at him. When Mark got too stupefied to move a limb and eat his food, the youngest of them starts munching on his lunch. “Plus it’s a formal event and that’s not just our cup of tea.”

 

Mark’s mind is troubled for the rest of the day, much to his friends’ amusement and Jinyoung’s confusion.

 

* * *

 

For years, Mark resisted the urge to drive back to where he grew up and go back to the familiar people he knew. Neither Youngjae nor Jinyoung knew the real reason why he left, but he’s beyond grateful that both his friends accepted him back in their lives.

 

However, facing Youngjae and Jinyoung again is one thing; meeting Jaebum, now that’s on another level.

 

Jinyoung won’t tell him, but Mark knows that Jaebum will be there. Jaebum quitted attending his lessons, but that didn’t mean he stopped supporting Youngjae’s recitals. It’s still wracking his mind how he’s about to meet Jaebum in a few hours after a few years of successfully avoiding the slightly younger male, and Jinyoung’s excitement isn’t helping him calm his mind, either.

 

Jinyoung has her legs crossed at the edge of Mark’s bed as she watches with scrutinizing eyes how he fails miserably in his attempt to properly knot his necktie. It’s the day of the concert, and Mark is struggling to put himself together for the formal event that Jinyoung and Youngjae are so excited about. Shaking his head in frustration, Mark watches her from the mirror and takes in the beautiful sight that is Park Jinyoung.

 

Jinyoung is wearing a red halter dress, hugging her sweetly by the waist and flowing softly just above her knee. Her hair is curled loosely, her bangs pushed away from her face with a bow pin. She looks simple but alluring, her hypnotic beauty levels beyond beguiling. Her black heels made her catch up to their little height difference, but Mark knows she’ll just be the perfect height that his arms can snake gently around her waist without too much difficulty.

 

Pulling himself out of his reverie, Mark calls out, “Aren’t you going to help me?”

 

“Nope,” she says, smiling mischievously at him.

 

Ignoring Jinyoung, Mark stares at himself in the mirror, his hands trying their best to coordinate and do the tie properly. From where she’s sitting on his bed, Mark can see Jinyoung watching his back move against the white button-down every time his arms move, her gaze following the flex of his muscles.

 

“Stop drooling. You’re going to wet my Pikachu,” he deadpans as he turns his head to look at Jinyoung, her slender fingers playing with the stuffed toy’s ears. Hearing his remark, Jinyoung throws the offending toy before she stands.

 

“Asshole,” she says, sashaying towards Mark. As she walks, Mark can see her raking her eyes below his hips, watching his feet as he shifts in impatience. And then she chuckles, her hand gracefully covering her open mouth. Finally taking pity for him, Jinyoung grabs Mark’s coat from the closet, before she reaches for him in a half-hug and puts the coat over his dress shirt. “Five hours later and you necktie is still a mess?” Jinyoung teases, eyes watching Mark on the mirror. “Wow, talent.” Mark rolls his eyes at her – a habit he developed from being with Jinyoung all those years – while he puts his arms to wear the coat. Seconds later, she turns him around, putting herself to use as she undoes the tie to fix it.

 

“I’m sorry if not everyone can be as perfect as you are, princess,” Mark retorts, his eyes gaining a teasing glint which he knows Jinyoung likes so much.

 

Feigning irritation, Jinyoung gasps incredulously and pulls Mark’s tie tighter around his neck in retaliation, her eyes sparkling with plans of murder. When he coughs, Jinyoung smiles innocently at him.

 

“I don’t know how people can call you _angel_ all the time when in fact here you are, trying to kill the life out of me.”

 

“Aww, Markie,” Jinyoung coos, tightening the tie around his neck again. Mark catches her hands this time, his callous yet long fingers wrapping around Jinyoung’s delicate wrists. “Maybe you want this tie knotted around somewhere else…,” she continues a beat later, before biting her bottom lip right in front of him as she finishes, “your wrists, maybe?”

 

Mark rolls his eyes at her in a bored manner. “Stop channeling your inner Christian Grey on me, Park Jinyoung. We both know I’m immune,” he says, eyes dark on Jinyoung. His thumb caresses Jinyoung’s rosy cheeks before tucking her long, curled black hair behind her ears. “And you suck at seduction, love. My little one didn’t even falter,” Mark teases, the side of his lips curving up in a menacing smirk.

 

“Pervert!” Jinyoung squeaks, and Mark chuckles fondly before he assists her out of his room. “And I’m Anastasia, for your information.”

 

Mark knows, because he’s done reading the book Jinyoung gave him, but she doesn’t need to know.

 

* * *

 

When they arrived at Youngjae’s school, Mark’s hand is immediately at the small of Jinyoung’s back, careful not to touch her exposed skin as he walks them around and into the theater hall. It’s not an easy task with people bumping to them and greeting Jinyoung, but suddenly Mark wishes that there are more people who’d block them and would talk to them, as his panic increases when he sees two vacant seats beside Jinyoung’s, which he knows are for Jaebum and Nayeon.

 

Maybe even with Jinyoung beside him, Mark still isn’t as ready as he claims to meet the siblings.

 

He’s about to spend the rest of the waiting time in the restroom when Jinyoung pulls at his arm, her palm sending warmth even through his clothed skin. “They’re here,” she murmurs with a smile, and for a moment, her dimpled cheek calmed Mark down.

 

Until Nayeon sees him and she squeals a little, alarming Jaebum who is right behind her.

 

“Oppa!” Even with her big smile and frantic waves, Mark only offers him a small smile, very much aware of the daggers Jaebum is shooting his way.

 

With them around, the two-hour recital seem two-hour too long of a torture, with Mark wishing for a magic hole to appear right below his seat and eat him whole. He knows Jinyoung can feel him fidgeting with the way she holds his hand, but even the sincere gesture doesn’t help to relax him. After the show is over, Mark knows he has to face Jaebum.

 

Which what exactly happens two hours later as Youngjae takes Nayeon and Jinyoung with him to entertain for a bit as soon as the show ended.

 

“It’s been long,” Jaebum says. Neither of them are big talkers, but Jaebum is the one who usually initiates a conversation as he takes it upon himself to do so, something Mark has always failed in doing. “Jinyoung seems happy.”

 

“Thankfully,” Mark says, his voice just above a whisper and almost inaudible with all the buzzing around them in the lobby.

 

“Have you told her already?”

 

“Have you told Nayeon already?”

 

Jaebum heaves a deep sigh, and Mark looks at him with a frown. “You tell them both.” Jaebum says it like it’s a job as easy as breathing, which both of them know isn’t the case. “Though I think Jinyoung’s starting to put two and two together.”

 

“I don’t know what to tell her,” Mark confesses, and Jaebum laughs sarcastically.

 

“Tell her you made out with Nayeon. On their birthday,” Jaebum spits, his voice dripping with so much sarcasm Mark thinks he’s going to drown. “Tell her that you left the party with my sister so you could finger—“

 

Mark interrupts Jaebum with a punch on his jaw, the slightly younger male caught off guard by the attack. People look at them with judging eyes, but Mark’s anger boils continuously inside his guts and he is beyond caring. Jaebum doesn’t seem too affected by the blow, but his eyes are burning and Mark knows he’s itching to fight back.

 

“You don’t know what happened,” he says between gritted teeth, leaving the venue with not so much as a goodbye to Youngjae. Mark will probably feel remorse leaving Youngjae – and Jinyoung – later, but as he drives away from Seoul and back to their school, he doesn’t feel any contrite about what he did—except maybe for the regret of not punching Jaebum harder.

 

* * *

 

Mark knows Jinyoung will reprimand him for more reasons than one the next day, but he doesn’t expect her to knock at his door at six in the morning.

 

“Open up!” she yells, and Mark can hear Jackson trying to stop Jinyoung. She stops for awhile, but even before Mark can blink, she starts pounding again.

 

Giving up, Mark opens up. Jinyoung pushes him hard against the wall, and Jackson shoos away the unnecessary audience that Jinyoung’s shouts attracted.

 

“You left me at the venue. You didn’t face Youngjae—who’s the main reason why we were at the recital, by the way, in case your temperamental brain had forgotten. And you freaking punched my best friend on the face in the middle of a sea of people?” she screeches endlessly, her face red hot with anger. Jinyoung only loses her composure when she’s overly excited or raging mad, and Mark can say for sure she’s not in any way excited as of the moment.

 

Jackson is dumbfounded by door, and Mark pretends to be unaffected under Jinyoung’s hold by the wall. Jinyoung isn’t stronger than Mark is, but he’s waiting for her to explode, to lash out on him and stop holding back her anger. So Mark irks Jinyoung and doesn’t answer, his face bored and irritated.

 

“Will you fucking talk to me!” Jinyoung screams further, her face leaning forward in an attempt to intimidate him. Physically, Mark is stronger than Jinyoung, but her anger adds six more inches to her height and she towers above him, her face scary and so, so close. “Stop hiding things from me because I can’t fucking stand you and Jaebum fucking fighting over Nayeon’s welfare!”

 

“That’s what you think? That Jaebum and I were fighting because of Nayeon?” Mark deadpans, hands swatting Jinyoung’s own away from him. “Why don’t you get out of my room and leave me alone as I think things between Nayeon and I through?”

 

“Why don’t you get your head out of your ass as I get the fuck out of your life?” That’s the last thing Jinyoung says before she’s out of the door, slamming it hard against the doorframe as she walks out.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t pretend you’re unaffected because we all know you are,” Jackson says, watching as Jinyoung rejects yet another food tray that Yugyeom and Bambam offers. The two kids refuse to leave with the food, but Jinyoung is firmer as she shakes a timid _no_.

 

“You were there when she made the choice of getting the fuck out of my life,” Mark reminds him, but Jackson just sighs in disbelief.

 

“Why don’t you just tell her the truth?”

 

“Truth?”

 

“That you love her deeply, and whoever this Nayeon is, she’s just another person because no one compares to how important Jinyoung is to your life.”

 

Mark looks straight at Jackson, trying to figure out how his best friend knew exactly what’s on his mind when he never mentioned anything about the people in his life before he transferred. “That’s not the truth.”

 

“Well, if you say so,” Jackson shrugs. “But I heard Jinyoung will be having visitors on her birthday this Thursday. Youngji said she asked for a leave from their manager. That small bean Youngjae and uh, Jae-something?”

 

“Jaebum,” Mark finishes, though Jackson’s laugh lets him know it was a huge trap, testing Mark if he actually didn’t care to listen. “Jinyoung’s sort-of boyfriend.” Jackson only gives him a hum in reply, eyes sympathizing with Yugyeom and Bambam as the two slump down on their chairs, head banging on the table and the tray still full with food.

 

“Princess still doesn’t want to eat,” Bambam pouts, playing with the carton of milk on the tray. “It’s the fourth consecutive day she hasn’t eaten lunch…”

 

“Maybe she eats at the library?” Jackson asks, peeling off the banana skin.

 

“She’s not,” Mark replies a little too quickly. The three look at him with teasing stares, and he backpedals, “I – You’re not allowed to eat inside the library.” Mark knows for sure that breakfast and dinner are Jinyoung’s only meals because for reasons he wouldn’t dare say out loud, he takes side trips to the library before he goes back to his dorm to check on Jinyoung.

 

“She looks a little sadder too,” Yugyeom notes, his eyes watching Jinyoung whose nose is deep onto her book. “Now, I feel sad myself.”

 

“Me too,” Bambam agrees, the two of them growing an immediate tight bond with the female. Mark follows their gazes, and he sees a group of basketball players approach her. Ever since Jinyoung opened up a little to Mark and his friends, half of their male population started talking to her, and she slowly responded to them much to their joy. Since then, Jinyoung had been talking and dealing with guys. It’s not a particularly hard task to do, but some guys are just a little too persistent for Jinyoung’s – and Mark’s – liking.

 

“You want me to punch away those shitfaces?” Jackson asks, nudging his knee under the table.

 

“She can handle herself,” Mark replies before getting up from his seat and towards his next class.

 

Mark is grateful that Jackson isn’t in his History class, lest he’ll see him thumping his foot as he waits impatiently for Jinyoung. She arrives ten minutes late accompanied by the same basketball dudes who approached her during lunch, a bag of takeout on her hands.

 

* * *

 

The rain falls as Jinyoung’s birthday comes, the leaves of nearby trees swirling around with droplets of water on their surface. It’s gotten a bit colder, the rain taking down a degree or two from the already low autumn temperature. From his bed, Mark watches the droplets hit his window, thoughts of Jinyoung wrapped in a blanket burrito filling his mind. Instinctively, his eyes flies to the direction of the gift he bought for Jinyoung, the box sitting heavily on his center table.

 

Mark’s phone rings then, effectively pulling him out of his daydreams.

 

“Will you please stop being the asshole that you are and get your fucking ass up here in Jinyoung’s dorm?”

 

“Jackson, we’ve talked already—“

 

“I know, and I’ll repeat myself for the billionth time: Don’t. Ditch. Jinyoung.”

 

“I’m not invited.”

 

“Oh, shut up, man. Friends don’t need invitations,” he reasons illogically, and Mark can hear Bambam screeching _yeah, friends just barge in!_

 

Mark huffs drily. “We’re not even friends—“

 

“Yes, because you are more than just that!” Jackson interrupts, his voice almost deafening Mark. “Now, I’m giving you two options: you walk here voluntarily, or I’ll drag you here by force.” Mark doesn’t even get to say a word before Jackson hangs up, leaving him dumbfounded and helpless.

 

* * *

 

It’s a little past 11PM when Mark switches his phone on again, his feet dragging him back to their dorm. Mark knows that Jackson would stay true to his words and physically drag him if needed, so instead Mark drove off and spent the rest of the day on the road, turning and turning until he’s far, so far away from the people he continuously disappoints, he continuously hurts.

 

There are twenty-five messages that popped up his screen as soon as his phone comes to life, and Mark still hasn’t read a single message when someone calls. Thinking it was Jackson, he quickly rejects the call. But then his phone buzzes again, and this time he sees Youngjae’s name registered on his screen.

 

“Hyung, where were you?” he asks, worry evident in his voice. “We were waiting for you.”

 

“I… had to be somewhere,” he lies, shutting his eyes as he feels a few raindrops fall on his face. “You’re home already?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Great. I hope you had a great time,” Mark says, trying his best to sound enthusiastic at least for Youngjae. The younger proceeds to tell him the events of the day: how he met Mark’s friends and how they were all so funny and full of energy. Mark listens, and as he finds himself taking a detour and walking towards Jinyoung’s dorm instead, he sort of blames how Youngjae’s stories distracted him.

 

A little less than twenty minutes later, Youngjae hangs up. Mark pockets his phone and pats the inside of his jacket, making sure the gift is carefully kept inside, waiting idly to be left to the dorm manager so Mark won’t have to face Jinyoung.

 

But as if on cue, someone clears their throat just before Mark approaches the dorm manager. He sighs, before turning around to look straight at Jaebum’s eyes. He’s sitting at the waiting area of the dorm, his legs crossed and a book open in his lap, Jinyoung’s head resting on his thighs. Mark thinks he can still run away without being noticed by the female all thanks to her eye mask, but Jaebum pats her cheek and lifts the mask up, and suddenly Mark is breathless, eyes staring into the younger’s brown ones.

 

“At least he came,” Jaebum tells Jinyoung, before the two of them stand and walk towards Mark. Jinyoung hugs herself tighter with the long sleeves of the hoodie she’s wearing, and Mark bitterly notes how she’s actually wearing one of Jaebum’s own.

 

“I just—“

 

“Let’s go upstairs,” Jaebum interrupts midsentence, hands wrapping around Jinyoung. “I think there are some food left on the fridge.” Mark should say no, should get out of the building while he still can. But instead he follows them, the dorm manager nodding at him and lifting her fist up in a silent _fighting!_

 

Jinyoung’s room doesn’t look much different from Mark’s own, but he can’t pay any more attention to the peach designs all over the room when she mutters, “Were you with Nayeon all day?”

 

From the peach-shaped pillow sitting on the baby pink beanbag at the corner of the room, Mark’s eyes find Jinyoung’s own quickly, highly offended by her implied accusation. “Why would you think that?” Jaebum stays silent, watching as they exchange silent, heated gazes. Mark wants to punch him again. “What do you know about me and Nayeon?”

 

“That you ditched my sixteenth birthday because you – you want to be with her,” she says, her lips starting to quiver. “And that you and her… were found doing something… in their house.”

 

“What _something_ , exactly?”

 

“I don’t know. Nayeon never said!”

 

“So Nayeon told you,” Mark repeats, eyes staring questioningly at Jaebum. “And you didn’t ask me anything because?”

 

“Because I know you would tell me if you want… but you didn’t.”

 

“I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter.”

 

“But I would like to know!”

 

“Why would you like to know, Jinyoung?” It’s Jaebum who asks, because Mark can’t speak a word in frustration. He sounds plain curious that for a moment, Mark thinks Jaebum is helping him progress.

 

When Jinyoung doesn’t answer, Mark stops hoping. He stops holding onto the thin string that’s keeping him from letting go. He pulls his gift out of his jacket and puts it on the bed, leaving Jaebum and Jinyoung on their own in her room, his heart trying so hard to keep working despite the heavy weight of pain preventing it from doing so.

 

* * *

 

Mark can already feel himself slowly crumbling to pieces, the pain of seeing Jinyoung looking so pale and weak affecting him in more ways than one. Yugyeom and Bambam stopped talking to him after Jinyoung’s birthday, the two kids always accompanying Jinyoung and making sure she eats a little, or on time, at least.

 

Jackson usually leaves him alone at their table to check on the three as well, and Mark is left watching them from afar, his pain and pride stopping him from approaching his friends.

 

But he knows how to decrease his burden a little, the entire reason why he ditched his Friday classes.

 

Mark looks up from where he’s napping on the steering wheel when he hears a knock on his window, and he sees Jaebum smiling widely at him. It creeps him a little given how badly they separated the last time they were together, but his friendship with Jaebum is never normal so he ignores the wide grin. “Shouldn’t you be in class?” he asks. “Or at home, at least?”

 

“Can I come in?” he replies instead, opening his car door and eyes Jaebum, the younger slightly confused but still nods a yes nonetheless.

 

In minutes, they’re in Jaebum’s room, the interior not a bit changed from when Mark was last inside. As Jaebum pulls out two bottles of beer from his stash, he says, “I believe this visit is about Jinyoung.” Never a man who goes around in circles, it doesn’t surprise Mark that Jaebum is blunt regarding all things. He nods at Jaebum, and he continues, “So are we finally going to have _the_ talk?” There’s a chuckle that follows, but Mark knows Jaebum’s seriousness regarding the matter is as much as his.

 

“What did Nayeon tell Jinyoung exactly?”

 

Jaebum opens his beer and sips. “Like what she told you. That you ditched her party to go home with Nayeon.” Mark listens, stopping himself from saying anything yet as he knows Jaebum has more to say. “But Jinyoung doesn’t know why you came with Nayeon. My sister never told her that part.”

 

“That brat,” Mark hisses, his beer almost empty when he puts it down. “Why is she riling her up? Damn, she’s maddening.”

 

“She is, and she riles Jinyoung up because it’s her way of retaliation, because she knows you’ll never like her back.”

 

“Jinyoung doesn’t even like me.”

 

“Because she likes _me_?” Jaebum questions, his eyes dark with playful mirth. “She was so mad with Nayeon because she likes _you_ , bastard.” Mark chokes on his drink then, and Jaebum laughs louder. “Which was why I punched you so hard I almost killed you—because Jinyoung likes you so much and I can see you do, too, but there I saw you pushing your tongue down my sister’s throat, and my mind sort of blacked out and I just want to hurt you, you know?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Mark apologizes, and Jaebum nods at him. “I didn’t even know Nayeon liked me. That night, she told me she’s too drunk to drive, and you were nowhere in sight, so I attended to her. I swear, man, I didn’t know she’d do that.”

 

“And I’m sorry if Nayeon attacked you like that, but I wouldn’t apologize for the punches I threw.” Jaebum sits beside Mark on the floor, facing the wall and their backs against the bed. “But why did you leave? You could’ve just apologized.”

 

“I was so humiliated, Jaebum. I promised you never to touch Nayeon in ways you wouldn’t want me to, but you found us in a rather displeasing position, so I don’t think I could still face you. And then there’s Jinyoung. I—“ Mark fumbles for his next words, and the way Jaebum is smirking tells him the younger male has a hunch of what he’ll say next. Mark continues, “—I thought you and Jinyoung were together and… fuck, I’m just so sorry for what I did to your sister and – err, uh, best friend.”

 

“Apology accepted,” Jaebum says, fist-bumping with Mark. However, Mark notices how his eyes go from playful to serious, his gaze threateningly looking at him. “I need you to do one more thing for me, though.”

 

“Anything.”

 

“Will you just fucking talk to Jinyoung already?” Jaebum says, his brows almost meeting at the middle. “She’s sulking so much that at this rate, she wouldn’t pass her SATs.”

 

* * *

 

Maybe Mark is overthinking, or maybe he just knows Jinyoung too much. Maybe he’s assuming, or maybe Mark just knows how to read Jinyoung correctly. But he thinks Jinyoung gave up on him already.

 

That same Friday, as he was driving along the expanse of the highway, he tried contacting Jinyoung. He started with texting her, until he was endlessly calling her, redialing her number repeatedly until he grew tired of the operator’s voice. He left her messages, voicemails, and e-mails until his battery died, but even after restarting and restarting his phone again and again thinking he hadn’t received a reply because his phone was malfunctioning, still he got no response from Jinyoung.

 

Jinyoung also stopped smiling at him, and even the littlest of her nods ceased to exist. If Mark would ask her about notes or assignments or class in general, she would send dismissive answers on his way, eager to end the conversation as quickly as she could.

 

It’s like Jinyoung gives up on trying even before Mark can start exerting efforts for her, like she finally realizes she’s worth more than what he makes of her. And Mark misses her. Mark misses Jinyoung’s emoji-filled messages or slurry, morning voicemails. He misses her dimples, and he misses looking at her freckles.

 

And Mark especially misses the days when it was just him who’s on the receiving end of Jinyoung giggles, because he knows she’s more than just a friend when his fist itches to hit a face as Jinyoung smiles lovingly at the football guys, impressing her with gifts and inviting her to their games.

 

“Do you—“ Mark can’t hold himself back anymore. Before Jackson can even stand to stop the unwanted attention, Mark takes long strides towards Jinyoung, his hand caressing her arms until it rests on her nape, the skin warm and soft to the touch.

 

“Who are you?” One of the larger dudes asks, but Mark ignores him. Jinyoung looks up at him with wide eyes, expression surprised and curious.

 

“Hey, she says she’s single!” Another one complains, which Mark ignores yet again as he pulls Jinyoung up and holds her closely, kissing her temple and sniffing her hair. Vanilla.

 

“I’m not her boyfriend,” Mark says, his thumb drawing spirals at the back of Jinyoung’s hand. And then he looks at her straight in the eyes, his expression serious and determined as he continues, “but she’s mine.”

 

* * *

 

Mark hates himself, and he knows the rest of the world probably would, too, when they learn how he tortured mentally and emotionally the girl he loves, but seemingly hates him now.

 

Jinyoung allowed him to drag her out and away from the cafeteria, but it was only when they were halfway to her dorm that Mark realized she was crying, her chest heaving deeply as she held back her sobs, probably too embarrassed at their scene earlier to further humiliate herself.

 

Mark stops walking then, but before he could even speak, Jinyoung was running away, hailing a cab and Mark was left rooted on the spot, waiting outside of her dorm until she came back. They skipped the rest of their afternoon classes, and while Jackson and the kids helped looked for her, Mark stayed waiting and unmoving; he only got up from the bench lining up the dorm building when it rained.

 

It’s almost midnight when the rain stops, and as if awoken by a supernatural force, Mark gets up and walks towards the door—where he sees a silhouette walking in the middle of the muddy grass, her head low and hair covering her face, her clothes dripping wet against her lithe body.

 

“Jinyoung-ah,” Mark calls, quickly removing his jacket to wrap around the younger. When she looks up, Mark gasps in surprise; Jinyoung’s eyes are red and swollen, but before he can comment, she’s hugging him tightly, punching his back repeatedly.

 

“I hate you,” Jinyoung says a million times like a mantra, her words slurred and her voice hoarse.

 

“I know,” Mark replies as he lifts Jinyoung up. She wraps her arms around Mark’s neck, nuzzling at the warmth his dry body can offer, still repeating her mantra. Mark hugs her despite her wet clothes, careful not to hurt her even worse than he already did.

 

Mark puts Jinyoung down when he reached her floor’s bathroom, asking her to wait a little as he fetches her robe and clothes. Five minutes later and Mark is back on Jinyoung’s room, waiting for the female to finish so he can tuck her to bed, worried that she might leave again if he leaves a minute earlier.

 

He’s sitting at the edge of her bed, his hands ruffling his hair in frustration when he hears the door crack open, and then close again. He sighs, looking up a little, and watches Jinyoung stand in front of him, her long hair wet and messy. Jinyoung looks tired and wrecked, but she’s not any less beautiful.

 

“Make love to me,” Jinyoung murmurs, her eyes sultry and transparent with wanton.

 

Mark swallows, his jaw tightening at the suggestive loosening of Jinyoung’s hands on her robe. Mark is so tired of rejecting Jinyoung, so tired of holding himself back from being happy. For years, he thought he was giving way for Jaebum—not knowing that all those years, he has become the man who denies himself of happiness. For once, Mark wants to be selfish. “Don’t change your mind,” he says before he stands with urgency and meets Jinyoung’s waiting lips, the younger immediately snaking her legs around Mark’s slim waist, the hard reminder of Mark’s equal hunger for her nudging at the cleft of her ass.

 

* * *

 

Mark shouldn’t have said no.

 

When Jinyoung asked years ago if Mark would rather have her as someone more than a friend, he shouldn’t have said no. Because yes, Mark wants Jinyoung to be more than just his friend; he wants Jinyoung to be the person he sees before he sleeps and face he wakes up to in the morning.

 

When Jaebum asked him if he would tell Jinyoung everything that happened that night, he shouldn’t have said no. Because yes, Mark should’ve told Jinyoung the truth years ago. Nayeon, the more-than-kiss, his feelings. Because back then, Mark thought he would hurt Jaebum even worse if Jinyoung got involved. After all the secrets and lies, Jinyoung ended up getting hurt the worst, and Mark wants to set thing straights.

 

Because after all the rejections and denials and giving ups, Mark realizes he’s not strong enough to let go of Jinyoung.

 

Letting go is for strong people—for people who are engaged enough to stop missing the person and the memories and the feelings that go along the memories.

 

Mark misses Jinyoung every time he looks at the mirrors and he sees his reflection missing the bright smile, the sparkling eyes. He misses Jinyoung whenever he sees the library, images of Jinyoung laid on her stomach on the bed as she reads popping up on Mark’s mind. He misses Jinyoung whenever he drinks his coffee, Jinyoung’s cheeky grin as she puts more sugar and cream on her drink making Mark smile even at the saddest of days. Mark misses Jinyoung during winter, misses looking at her scarf-covered face and pink ears, the younger female shivering a little as she grabs for her hot chocolate, her palms reveling on the warmth of the cup.

 

Letting go requires Mark to forget everything, but Mark can’t. Mark can’t forget Jinyoung when she’s all he needs, all he wants, all he loves.

 

“You’re smiling,” Jinyoung’s berceuse voice slurs, her hands wrapping tighter around Mark. She shifts a little and kisses his neck, and Mark can feel her naked body warm and flush beside him.

 

“I’m thinking of you,” Mark says, kissing the top of her head, sniffing the achingly familiar vanilla scent on her hair. From where her lips are attached on his skin, Mark feels Jinyoung smile. “Aren’t you cold? I should’ve insisted harder on dressing you.”

 

“Nah, I feel good,” she replies easily, her fingertips dancing on Mark’s torso. “I wanted to feel more of you.” Jinyoung looks up, and Mark offers her a loving smile as he leans down, capturing her kiss-swollen lips. The response comes immediately, Jinyoung’s hands travelling north to play on Mark’s blond locks.

 

“Don’t get me used to your morning kisses,” Mark says when Jinyoung pulls away, her cheeks beautifully tainted a light pink.

 

“Well, I want to. So you wouldn’t want any other way to start your morning.” She looks cheeky and mirthful, but even after she gave him herself last night, Mark knows Jinyoung’s head is screaming at him so he’d listen to what she had to say. And after what she gave him, that’s the least Mark can do for her—listen to Jinyoung as she pours her heart out, as she cries her pains to him.

 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” It’d be better if they would get up and get dressed before they talk, but Mark wants to keep Jinyoung’s warmth by his side so he holds onto her tightly. “What you’re _really_ thinking.”

 

“I don’t want to,” she answers as she looks down, taking her hand off of Mark’s hair. Mark shivers at the sudden loss of warmth. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up to the ugly reality.”

 

Mark lifts her chin up so she’s looking at him, before he kisses her once, twice, thrice. “This is our reality, Jinyoung.”

 

“Do you know why I’m here? Why I left my school, why I left everyone? Because I wanted to follow you. I wanted to give myself one last shot. I wanted to give _us_ one last try. So I followed you, not knowing how you’d react, or if you still know me. One last try, that’s all I need. And closure, I think. Because I can’t let you off like that without knowing how you feel, at least.

 

“And then I came here, and you acted like I’m some filthy woman you don’t want to get involved with. But hey, that’s okay. Maybe that’s all I need—to be treated like I don’t matter. I thought after that, I could finally let you go. But then you took me back, on your birthday, and I thought, maybe that’s you telling me we’re okay? We’re good and I’m still your friend. Friend. It sounded so offending, but I’d take that. I’d take anything.

 

“We’re doing great, I thought, but then you punched Jaebum and I freaked out. Jaebum wouldn’t tell me anything, and you wouldn’t speak, too. And you asked me to get out of your door, and I realized, that was you telling me to stop coming back. So I should, if that would make you happy. After all, I told myself not to get my hopes up. So I backed away, gave you the space I thought you wanted. And then you started acting so possessive in front of the entire cafeteria, and fuck if that wasn’t hot.

 

“Believe me, I felt like some princess or something and I wanted to kiss you so bad, but I couldn’t. My mind was stopping me. Because you make my heart dizzy. We were going around in circles too much, and I was so confused. I only wanted you, but you’re not so clear about what you wanted. So I ran away. I ran away and went to Jaebum. I told him I was hurt, because you are half acting like an asshole and half acting like my knight in shining armor, and I can’t have that. You treated me like you wanted me to give everything up—to give _you_ up, but I couldn’t. I can’t, even when I felt like the memories I’m feeling were just lies. Not even when I felt like what we had were just illusions. I can’t give anything up, because I love you. And thus I will hold onto the last hope I’ve got.

 

“And that’s when Jaebum told me. About Nayeon, and what happened that night when you two ran away from the party. Jaebum was so hesitant to tell me, but I looked like a disaster—which, I guess got his sympathy. He was never mad at you, Markie. Never. He just wanted you and I to realize what we are to each other, but he found us too stubborn so he gave up and told me everything.” Jinyoung takes a deep breath after her speech, while Mark is left dumbfounded, staring at her with so much disbelief in his eyes. Not that he doesn’t believe her when she said she loves him, but because he can’t believe he made Jinyoung go through all those. Mark feels like an even worse person. “I came back running to your arms after the rest of the world told me you love me, but I still want to hear you say it.”

 

Mark heaves a breath then, his eyes finding Jinyoung’s. There’s so much hope in them, so much love, and Mark doesn’t stop himself from kissing her eyelids as he says, “I already said it a lot of times last night, but yes, Park Jinyoung, I love you with all my heart. I’m not a perfect guy like your best friend, but I love you, and I’ll be the best guy for you.”

 

Jinyoung caresses Mark’s jaw, her fingertips leaving warm trails on his skin. “Stop comparing yourself to Jaebum, please. I love you both, but I’ll never let him touch me the way you did last night,” she says with a blush, and that’s enough to relax Mark’s worried mind, Jinyoung’s soft giggles ebbing his concerns away. “Okay now, stop grinning at me and get dressed. It’s already midmorning; I need my daily dose of Vitamin D.”

 

Mark watches Jinyoung stand up, carrying the pink blanket covered with peaches and covering her naked self with it. She walks towards the window to draw the curtains a little, and as she stands there with her bare back facing Mark, he sees—from his spot on the bed, Jinyoung basks in the midmorning sunshine, her skin glowing with the natural light. And then Jinyoung half-turns and smiles, her little dimple denting her cheeks and her eyes creasing, and Mark thinks he hasn’t seen someone more ethereal in their naked gloriousness than Jinyoug is as of the moment.

 

And like the first day they met, Mark feels himself fall in love all over again with Jinyoung. And just like before, Jinyoung smiles fondly back at him, because she knows.

 

* * *

 

It’s halfway into winter, the city covered beautifully with a vast, white blanket. Snowflakes are falling, people are buzzing in and out of the café, and Mark feels the familiar warmth embrace his heart, and he knows the heat isn’t from the drink he’s holding.

 

Jinyoung is sitting beside Mark, her eyes smiling so beautifully and her lips quirking up playfully. More than beautiful, Jinyoung is stunning. Captivating. Mark holds onto her cold hands, her mittens always forgotten. He takes them and brings them on his cheeks, and Jinyoung giggles. Mark kisses the little mole just above her jaw.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

 

“I know,” she replies. She takes her hands from him and removes his beanie to put it on herself. Mark fixes her hair, her bangs, and she fixes his blond locks.

 

“I love you,” he confesses, kissing the mole on Jinyoung’s nose.

 

“I know,” she chuckles, her nose scrunching adorably at the butterfly kiss. Mark chews on his lower lip, his canines pressing onto his flesh. Jinyoung stares at him for a good while, before she leans closer to kiss the mole above his lips. “I love you too.”

 

“I know,” Mark grins, before kissing his most favorite freckle on Jinyoung’s face—the one on her upper lip. “Happy 100 days, love.”

 

“Happy 100 days, love,” Jinyoung says, and as she busies herself with kissing the exposed skin from Mark’s face down to the crook of his neck, he takes the handwritten letter on the table and opens it, rereading the words Jinyoung wrote on them again and again as if memorizing them, the feelings and emotions that come along with the words intensifying as he takes in the sentences one after another.

 

_Never compare yourself again with Jaebum, my love, because it hurts me. You and Jaebum are both important to me, but I love you two differently._

_Jaebum is my best friend. The guy next door, the one I’ll always run off to first before anyone else. He’s my neighbor, my playmate, the one who fights the guys at school because they’ll never leave me alone. Jaebum is the one who makes me eat my vegetables, the one who always strangles me so I’d drink my medicine. He’s the brother I never had, the second father I can never disown. Jaebum is a lot to me, and I’m thankful that he helped me through the days I miss you._

_But you… you are more than that._

_You are my favorite person. The one I’ll always call when I’m sad, happy, or hungry. You’re the one I’ll always share my food with, and Jaebum could only wish as much. You’re the one whose thoughts of make me smile already, whose touch makes me feel so giddy. You’re the one I’ll let sleep on my bed, because you never kick me out of my own mattress. Together we’ll throw away our vegetables, and together let’s be healthy because medicines taste so bitter. I love you, more than you think I do, and that will always be true._

_I can’t tell you how much I love you, because even I don’t know how. I’ve yet to learn how to tell you how deeply I am in love with you, but until then, you’re mine._

_Cheers to the first one hundred days of our forever._

_Eternally yours, Jinyoung_

 

_PS. Until I tell you otherwise, DO NOT ever think that you are less than any of my fictional guys, because I swear, you are hotter (and probably kinkier, but I’ll need proofs to know for sure) than Christian Grey. I love you. Always._

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Did you know that my Microsoft Word crashed when I was writing the ending. Okay that’s nothing important idk why I said that............................ I just had to. Thank you for reading!!!!!! ♥


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